Kaguya-hime no monogatari (The Tale of the Princess Kaguya)

A childless family holistically subsists within the fertile abundant countryside, utilizing enriching multifaceted bamboo to productively nourish and equip their household.

One bamboo shoot proves more elaborate than the other versatile exemplars within the forest, revealing a miniature person no less in need of love and warmth and shelter and guidance.

Her new parents are unsure of what to do but know she grows quickly and flourishes in nature, as she swiftly befriends the local children who generously teach her about plants and animals.

Other discoveries within the forest lead her father to believe she's destined for royalty, fine silk robes and a huge pile of gold lead him to seek stately honours sequentially.

They move away from the cherished country to the imposing capital where they've built a mansion, and hired a discerning professional nanny to strictly teach her the rules of etiquette. 

She responds with traditional transgressions and febrile fits of fervent fury, but eventually settles into her chosen role out of dutiful love for her mother and father.

Bold noblepeople from across the land soon come a'-calling in pursuit of marriage.

But she responds with impossibility.

To which they counter in roguish fashion.

The dependable roots of a heartwarming Ghibli magically take hold of one's heart within, and enchantingly propagate independent merrymaking with soul-searching skill and tender echoes.

The sought after attention to naturalistic detail and focus on animals of all shapes and sizes, can be wondrously found once again throughout what's come to be known as Kaguya-hime no monogatari (The Tale of the Princess Kaguya).

Crafts are also concentrated on as the Princess moves from station to station, animated accounts of diligent artists distinctively engaged in woodworking wonder. 

The eternal struggle between the carefree ways of a bucolic youth clashing with urban responsibility, permeates the bewildered action as the coveted Princess takes centre stage.

Would it have been better to introduce the Moon People at the beginning of the film instead of much later?, the lack of foreknowledge briefly generating confusion as the shocking revelations augment the end.

But the intricate detail, the copious love for thriving nature to be found within.

And the ways in which it appeals to the fortunate throughout life.

Seductively soothes.

Any critical sensation. 

Der Amerikanische Freund (The American Friend)

Playful deceit with murderous intent wickedly tricks resigned desperation into committing uncharacteristic crimes in Wim Wenders's Der Amerikanische Freund (The American Friend), the lucrative potential payoff producing imaginative cures for dissembled diagnoses, beforehand, while innocence still tenderizes, while conscience remains impenitent, while a child acknowledges fraternity, while a wife willingly confides, the sudden possibility, the imposing tactile ease, inherent obscurities coaxing refined obsolescence, disappearing into the fold, in possession of purist panacea.

Concurrently, a fraudulent easel facilitates brushstrokes which comfortably pay the bills for both facsimilator and procurer, a man of the world always eager to make new friends, his kaleidoscopic contacts adroitly brimming with opportunistic fervour.

Begrudged meetings of minds.

Corruption classed exclusive.

The film's mix of grizzled despondent frightened action and curious childlike malevolent pause maliciously meows with tantalizing solemnity, like you've been dating a cool partner for a while and have run out of ideas, your whiskers rustling with uncertainty as you acquiesce to their control.

Cat style, things are still rather loose knit and unconcerned but the spontaneous bursts of profound inspiration startlingly ignite uncharted expeditionary crazes.

Visceral emotions.

Subconscious realization.

Like the ingredients for grandma's seductive shepherd's pie, Der Amerikanische Freund reflexively socializes with clandestine variability, each mouthful uniquely pronounced, the devouring of morsels plain yet sublime.

Taken in its entirety, it timorously yet nonchalantly plays dangerous games as it heuristically high jumps, surprisingly settled with enterprising leaps and bounds, intuitively melding cautious authenticity with bold improvisation, it angelically clasps demons, in cloaks of aspen rue.

Neighbours

The questions of how loud one can party is tempered by bourgeois infiltrations as a rowdy fraternity moves in next door to a married couple in Nicholas Stoller's Neighbours.

The fraternity is well versed in the Dionysian arts.

Their goal is to throw a brazen bash nutso enough to ensure their enshrinement on their wall of fame.

Their neighbours, the Radners, are not impressed.

Engaged in the practice of child-rearing, and hoping to maximize what they can of a good night's sleep, they utilize logic and persuasion in an attempt to famish the insatiability.

Their plan backfires however, leading them to employ alternative methods to achieve their sought after repose.

What follows is a diabolical exchange of quintessential quid pro quo, devious in its conceptual understatements, wherein the past congenitally confronts history.

Robust and adroitly wound.

This isn't a typical frat-boy romp.

Residing in its reels are unexpected lessons regarding the cultivation of one's career and the absurdity of dipsomanic progressions.

Teams frat and bourgeois are therefore divided into the successful and the stumbling, as the mayhem imbues.

Neighbours is somewhat tame in its gambits, but these tame gambits lay a reasonably ecstatic foundation, upon which multiple avenues of inquiry merge, to simultaneously question while enabling.

Embligmatic clues.

It's difficult to say who's having more fun.

Lady Terminator

A legendary Javanese goddess known as the South Sea Queen is out for revenge after having been spurned by an innovative lover. Swearing to return in a hundred years to terminate this lover's great-granddaughter, she retreats to the bottom of the sea to plot her vindictive trajectory. 100 years later, a young anthropology student (Barbara Anne Constable) scuba dives through her underwater domain and becomes the body which she carnally inhabits. A violent rampage follows wherein men are seduced and disposed of as she seeks her object of vengeance with coldhearted calculated precision.

Basically a low-budget rip off of The Terminator, Jalil Jackson's Lady Terminator re-imagines Arnold Schwarzenegger's robotic menace and portrays it as an unstoppable she-beast. Up and coming pop star Erica (Claudia Angelique Rademaker) substitutes for Sarah Connor and is protected by law enforcement officer Max McNeil (Christopher J. Hart). The film unabashedly follows The Terminator's narrative with entertaining accuracy even duplicating scenes and reusing the "come with me if you want to live" line. Nothing is taken seriously and it unreels as a fun, ridiculous, salacious peculiarity whose content has been thoroughly homaged in shows like South Park and The Family Guy. Should you be careful when approached by an alluring voluptuous goddess seeking pleasure and pain in no particular order? Yes you should. Should you take the time to meticulously edit your kitschy film to ensure internal consistency before distributing it to your local and foreign markets? No, you should not. Should you try and hide the fact that you're remaking a film four years after its release, following its plot developments religiously, without taking the time to examine any of the pertinent copyright legislation issues? I really don't know, but Lady Terminator is an amusing chaotic highly gratuitous audacious gambit whose legacy has cultivated a devoted underground following. I'm not going to talk about the eel.